


Crowfoot Wrench

by AlabasterMoonbeam



Series: Different Names for Wrench [2]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fun, Running from cops, Wrench helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 00:29:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11909442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlabasterMoonbeam/pseuds/AlabasterMoonbeam
Summary: Kirby steals a cop car and Wrench comes to the rescue.





	Crowfoot Wrench

Kirby was running. Again. As she puffed along, Kirby tried to order a car as her phone jerked with her movements. Skidding to a stop, she looked around her, sirens coming closer. Hopping through some back gardens, Kirby was doing pretty ok up until her shirt got caught. The rough wood scraped up her back and she ripped her shirt from the fencing. Her Docs hit the pavement between the houses, and just as she began to run down the alley way, a pair of cops launched out of their patrol car.  
It was clear from the way she sped up instead of slowing that Wrench was rubbing off on her. She just wished he might rub off on her in a different way. Circling around the cops, Kirby spun herself to the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. Shots rang out as she slammed the accelerator down and scraped up against a building. Fishing in her jeans for her phone, Kirby wove through the traffic and narrowly avoided head-on collisions with her pursuers.  
“Stole a cop car” she sent her text to Wrench, hoping he could help her out. She still had the loot she’d snagged from the armored truck, but now she was in deep shit.  
“The fuck?” Really, Wrench? That was the best reply you could think of? Kirby shook her head and got the GPS to take her from Marin to Oakland. Jerking the E-brake, Kirby threw the cop car into a bootlegger’s turn and, facing back the way she had come from, began weaving past the cops and through traffic. As she flew past a patrol SUV she texted Wrench again.  
“Knocked over an armored truck. What do I do now?” Kirby hoped Wrench could help her. In all honesty, she hadn’t set out to do it, but then when the opportunity arose she couldn’t resist. It helped that she’d been the one to create the opportunity: the explosion was at just the right time and the armored truck was at just the right place. Making it onto the bridge, Kirby continued evading the cops when her phone buzzed.  
“Bay Bridge to Chinatown. Meet you there.”  
That was one great thing about Wrench. She needed help and he was there to be the helper. Slamming on the brakes before boosting the engine, Kirby wove over the bridge, narrowly avoiding getting shot out by the helicopter that was now following her. Fuck. Really? As the ocean was being overtaken by land again, and just where there was a break in the barriers a black SWAT truck slammed into the back of the cop car. The incredibly beleaguered cop car shuddered as the cones were scattered to the ground below. Kirby closed her eyes, fully expecting to hear horrific crunching while she was crushed within the car, but instead heard only the sound of the front bumper skipping and skidding along the pavement.  
It didn’t take long to get to Chinatown and it was immediately clear what Wrench had planned. Every pipe or electrical explosion that was possible had been rigged to deter and impede Kirby’s pursuers. Seeing that exact spikey love interest of hers, Kirby skidded to a halt, threw open the car door and began running with Wrench. Wrench shouted out directions and general assistance as they ran, until it was clear he was maneuvering them toward Golden Gate Park. Racing through a Plainstock, Wrench threw money on the counter, snagged a bland sweatshirt and pulled it onto Kirby. Then they were off again. Kirby was pretty sure she was going to die, it was just a matter of if she was shot or simply couldn’t breathe. Finally they reached the park, and just as she was feeling like they might make it, the helicopter found them.  
She ran. It wasn’t until she had gone quite a ways that she realized she was alone in the park. No Wrench. As this information solidified in Kirby’s brain three cop cars came careening toward her. She stood, motionless, then suddenly she was being half tackled, half dragged. Wrench jerked her arm and threw her down a strange embankment. Then he was on top of her, face so close to hers that she could have kissed the spikes where his mouth was. Why was that thought sticking in her head?

Dusk was setting in and with it came fog, rolling off the Pacific as though trying to help them evade capture. As the sounds of cop cars and helicopters began to fade, Wrench pushed himself up off of her and held out a hand to Kirby. It was when she placed her hand in his that she realized how beaten up she was.  
It was a slow walk back to HQ. Wrench initially wanted to call for a car but even as she agreed he realized Kirby needed some time not rolling or running. So, they walked. Passing a coffee shop, Wrench sat Kirby down on the patio and slipped in. When he returned Wrench handed Kirby a bottle of water and they kept walking.

It was full dark when they finally got back to HQ, although with the light pollution you wouldn’t know it. Wrench had texted ahead, letting everyone know that they needed space. Kenney and Marcus had messaged back with snarky comments about not having sex in his space and cleaning up any cum stains respectively. Wrench didn’t bother replying. It was weird for him, he usually didn’t care too much when someone got hurt or was in trouble but… when Kirby’s text asking what to do came in, all he wanted to do was take care of her. She didn’t like to ask for support, so he knew she felt overwhelmed.  
Sitting her down on the couch, Wrench grabbed a large metal toolbox from the Wrench Bench and dragged a low stool over. Kicking open the toolbox, Wrench revealed an extensive first aid kit.  
“Don’t tell anyone, k?” Wrench remarked as Kirby’s eyes widened then quirked in humor.  
“You don’t seem like much of a first aid type?” Kirby finally spoke, appending a question mark to her statement.  
Pouring rubbing alcohol onto some gauze, Wrench began to clean the small star-patterned wounds from the car chase. Windows had been broken and the shards of glass had been scattered across Kirby’s skin. Then he applied something to the bruises that were beginning to blossom on Kirby’s face and body. Wrench could tell that something else hurt, but wasn’t sure what. Kirby kept shifting, first closer to him, then further away. Finally, he called her on it.  
“Stop shifting, Pen. Tell me what hurts and I’ll try to help.”  
“Pen?” Kirby blinked at Wrench, studying him from beneath her dark lashes.  
Clearing his throat, Wrench tried to think of a lie, but was surprised when the truth came out instead.  
“Yeah. I call you that. In my head,” He was incredibly grateful that his mask hid the blush that was burning across his face, even though he knew his emojis made it clear. He cleared his throat again, saying, “I know your first name, you know. Penelope.”

Kirby almost melted right then. Her name, her real name, not a hacker name, coming out of Wrench’s tinny voice was something she never expected. She didn't shift again, reluctant to call attention to her shoulder. When Wrench tackle-dragged her he’d hooked the callused fingers of one hand in her armpit, digging into the muscles of her shoulder and jerking the joint around. Kirby didn’t want him to feel badly about it, so she tried to hide it better. Later, when Wrench was out or after he’d passed out, she’d ask Sitara to help her stretch and ice the damn thing. Or, she would have, if Wrench hadn’t moved her arm to check under her wrists for other shards of glass. Her wince was body-wide, a cringing movement accompanied by a gasp of breath.  
“Shit, Pen! What’s wrong?” Wrench’s voice was oddly deep, but so worried she did a double take.  
“It’s fine, Wrench, it’s jus-” She trailed off as he levelled a look at him. For a man who lived behind an LED mask, Wrench could pull off some seriously forbidding expressions. “It’s my shoulder. It got yanked around a lot and… It just hurts, that’s all.”  
Before she’d finished speaking, Wrench was digging in his first aid toolbox. Eventually he held up a small pill bottle of Aleve. Handing her two, he grabbed her water. It wasn’t long after that that Kirby fell asleep, head on Wrench’s lap, his hand running up and down her arm.

Wrench sat there, thinking. He’d stopped rubbing her arm and was busy on his phone when everyone came back in. Sitara had kept them rather subdued and they made little noise while they sat down to hear what had happened. Wrench filled them in and finished by explaining that she was wiped out.  
Motioning to the ugly bruise that was shaping up on Kirby’s temple Sitara asked, “You want me to get anything? I can pick up some ice packs or arnica or whatever.”  
“Nah, I’ll go, just… make sure she doesn’t move much, ok. I think everything hurts right now.”

When Kirby opened her eyes in the morning, she was pretty sure that death would have felt better. Mostly she was ok, but when she blinked her temple and cheek hurt a lot and when she went to push herself to sitting her shoulder hurt so bad she cried out. That was when Wrench came around and supported her to sitting. He handed her a cup of tea before gently massaging her neck and shoulders.  
“So, how does everything feel, Evel Knievel?”  
“So sore. What the fuck was I thinking last night,” Kirby sipped at the tea.  
“I dunno, but you are one badass hacker, that’s for sure. Did you know you still had the data you snagged from the armored truck last night?”  
“Heh, yeah, it’s good data, but I think, all things considered, Josh should deal with it. I think I have to see a doctor. Or a magician.”  
After she woke up everything seemed to click into increasingly higher gear as the day progressed. Wrench took her to the doctor, then got the strange shoulder support sling that she had to wear while her body tried to heal. After that he took her to Golden Gate Park again, and they strolled through, hand in hand, as though they were a completely normal couple. Albeit one with a mask and the other wishing she had one.   
“So,” Wrench spoke, looking up through the trees, “What possessed you to steal data from an armored truck, then steal a cop car, then run off into the park without a set direction?” He kept his voice calm, even though he wanted to grab her by those shoulders and shake her until she promised to never do something like that again. He made a point not to look at her as she tried to drop his hand and make distance between them. Wrench kept his fingers laced with hers.  
“Um, I really don’t know. Except that when I saw the armored truck I couldn’t resist. It was in the perfect place to blow it up. I did it before I even fully thought it through. Obviously.” Kirby scuffed her toe against a tuft of grass.  
“Ok, good enough, my little anarchist,” Wrench looked at her, hearts in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this, great!!! Thanks! If not, that's ok, too, because you won't ever see this note :) I really am just plunking around and writing for fun.
> 
> Also, Crowfoot wrench because they don't have handles and Kirby flew a little off the handle this time.


End file.
